Page 55 of Avalon Tower

Strong minty flavors erupt, curling into my throat and nose. I can practically feel my breath relaxing and my lungs opening up.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” She smiles at me. “Helps me on bad days.”

“It’s incredible,” I manage. This is a million times better than my inhaler. Modern medicine has a lot to learn from the Fey.

The brakes screech, and the train slows.

A man’s voice floats through the carriage. “Allevur! We have arrived at Allevur!”

My gaze flicks to the large guard. He’s not paying attention to me, but he’s standing by the door where I need to disembark. Through the opening, I see a stone platform. Gas lamps cast a warm glow over a few people as they bustle off the train.

“Didn’t you want to get off on Allevur, young one?” the silver-haired woman asks.

“Yes.” I smile at her, my heart beating hard, my eyes still on the guard. “Just catching my breath.”

I wait for a few seconds, then stand up and walk over to the train door. As I reach it, the guard turns to look at me, his eyes widening.

“You!” he shouts.

The train is starting to move again. I open the door and leap off, just as the train chugs away. Pain shoots up my leg. The guard is hanging out the door, staring at me, baring his canines.

CHAPTER 17

No one seems to notice my awkward tumble out of the train.

I push myself up on the stone platform, putting my weight on my good leg, and dust myself off. The train station is made of glass, like a greenhouse, and lit with golden lamps. A clocktower rises from it, and I mark the time as five minutes past one. The large clock face is cracked, maybe from the war fifteen years ago. No wonder most humans abandoned this place.

Up ahead, a few people hurry through the station’s open archway to carriages waiting on the other side. I hop on my good foot, one hand on the glass as I exit the station.

The town built up around the train station is small, with a cobbled road that passes between shops and shuttered homes on either side. The shops are closed for the night, the windows dark, but down the street, I see the lights of a tavern, the sign hanging above the door creaking forlornly in the wind.

A few soldiers linger by the station, and my spine stiffens at the sight of their blue coats. I try to disguise my limp as I walk. Clenching my teeth, I mask the pain racing up my ankle.

When I glance to my right, my breath catches. Between two shops is a view of dark, empty fields, and deep in the fields stands a gallows. Five silhouettes swing from ropes under the light of the moon. Fear settles into my bones. This is the true face of the Fey occupation, these bodies swaying above the grass.

For a moment, I wonder if one of them is Freya and dismiss the notion. These bodies have been there for a while. They look stiff, and the faint scent of death carries on the wind.

I shiver and hurry on. Based on the time, the others should be here soon, coming from the other side of the town square, not from the station.

Slowly, I make my way to the tavern, where warm lights beam from the windows. The outside is painted black with golden stars, and the creaking sign depicts a painting of a headless woman. This must be the meeting spot. I’d heard them saying the name of the location was a place called The Silent Woman.

As I get closer, I survey the layout. An agent should always have an escape route. The tavern has two arched wooden doors inset into a stone building. Oak trees grow around the side door, twining together above the entrance. I wonder if it’s a kitchen door. Behind the tavern is a stable.

Passing by, I glance at the tavern’s warmly lit window. A black cat sits on a stack of books, flicking her tail back and forth. I don’t notice much else because I’m not stopping to linger. Mentally, I’m racking my brain for every detail of the map I memorized during the briefing.

I’m fairly certain they’ll be coming from the southwest. Once I get past the town square, I take a left onto a dirt road with nothing but a few scattered homes and fields stretching into the darkness. I move slowly to avoid putting weight on my left foot. At last, I leave the houses and the village behind. Out here, stone walls surround patches of farmland, and wildflowers line the dirt road.

Fear crawls into my stomach, worries that I’m too late, that they already got here before I arrived. That they’ve been ambushed, taken. Desperate, I search for a sign of them in the darkness. Minutes crawl by.

Then I see them at last—a trio riding toward me. Relief washes over me as I recognize Freya’s auburn hair, and as they ride closer, Raphael and Arzel’s bright white shirts stand out from the shadows.

Raphael leads the way. In the shadows, his pale eyes pierce the dark. When he’s only twenty feet away, his horse slows, and his jaw drops. He dismounts and strides toward me. “Pixie princess.” A line forms between his eyebrows as he stares at me. “Nia, what are you doing here?”

“I had to warn you. I think you might be stepping into an ambush.”

Freya and Arzel move their horses closer.

“How did you get here before us? And how did you end up in this dress?” Freya asks. “What the fuck is happening?”